Promise
by Pixietails
Summary: [Spoilers] A short Silent Hill 2 story following the lives' of the main character and his wife. Beings at marriage and goes to the end of the game. Trapped in darkness, a life starts to fade when there no hope of finding the light to nourish it.


**Warning: Spoilers for the entire game...you can still turn back...if ya want...**

* * *

**_Happiness_**

Church bells, wedding dress. Laughter, tears, smiles. A chorus of friendly voices, woven together in the perfect tapestry of symphonic melodies. She threw the bouquet; her best friend caught it. His father was trying not to cry.

_**Light**_

"So, when are you gonna give me a grandchild?"

"Dad, we just got married."

"Almost a year ago! I don't want to hear any excuses."

"Well, it's still a little early to be thinking about it. Look, I gotta go. We're going on vacation. I call you when I get home."

_**Serenity**_

"I wish we could stay here. It's so beautiful."

"It really is. Peaceful, too. I can't believe how much film we've used already."

"Only because you won't stop taping."

"...I've stopped. I had to sleep, you know."

Laughter. That beautiful laugh, echoing into silence, fading, lost.

She coughed.

_**Sickness**_

"Are you sure you're all right? You should see a doctor about that cough . . . "

"Don't be silly. It's just allergies, you know how bad they get."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I'm just worried about you."

"I know you are. Your father called again."

"Really? Grandkids again?"

"Yeah . . . we're just gonna have to give him one, aren't we?"

Her smile. So soft, warm . . .

_**Pain**_

Empty house, cold bed, rumpled sheets. The lights are never turned on, the kitchen hasn't been touched in days. Maybe weeks. He's rarely home, visiting St. Jerome's as often as possible. He gets the feeling that she's tired of him being around. But he can't leave her side.

_**Decay**_

A beautiful and undoubtedly expensive bouquet of flowers preceded the blonde man through the door, a little pink chenille teddy bear clutching the blue and white vase as if for dear life. The hospital room was gloomy, the flowers bringing a splash of color, taking away from its lackluster appearance. She didn't want them. She hated them.

"I-I thought you'd like them, they're so pretty . . . "

"Pretty? How dare you bring me something pretty when I feel so _ugly! _Look at me and tell me I don't look hideous! Leave me alone, just _go, _and take your damn flowers with you! Don't come back!"

He was heartbroken. And angry. So angry. So he left, taking the jilted flowers with him and resisting the urge to twist the happy little bear's oblivious head off.

"James . . . I'm sorry . . . please, come back. I'm sorry . . . don't leave me alone. I don't want to die . . . James . . . James, please . . . "

_**Hatred**_

_She hates me. She doesn't want to see me. I did so much for her, didn't I? I sacrificed my life to be with her while she ailed. While she hurt, cried, slept. I was there. Her laughter . . . I won't ever hear it again. She won't laugh anymore. Not for me, not for anyone. She took so much time from me. Should I hate her for that? Is it right? I only wanted to help her. I don't want her to die. If she lives—no, I won't think about that. It's not going to happen. It _can't _happen. She's going to die. But she could thank me, recognize what I'm doing for her. She doesn't care. She told me not to return . . . but I will. I have to. Once more._

_Die, Mary._

_You say you don't want to . . . _

_But you do._

_You told me you do._

_You hurt. I hurt._

_So, let me take away your pain._

_Die._

_**Lullaby**_

_A single pillow . . . _

"I'm sorry . . . I just want your pain to end . . . I love you . . . "

_Good bye._

_**Sins**_

"I understand now. I'm being punished for my sins. I accept this . . . I need this. I can't keep going on like this. It's time I faced my crimes and atoned for what I've done."

He raised the gun then, pale hands trembling only slightly, and pulled the trigger.

_Bang._

Metal hitting metal. The bullet ricocheted off the red pyramid thing's head.

Ready. Aim . . .

Fire.

This time, it hit flesh.

It wasn't really so hard, killing another living thing . . .

Just like that boy, back in the freezer . . .

_**Reunion**_

'_I'd never kill myself . . . '_

_I said that. I told that girl that. Am I a liar?_

"No. James, you're not a liar."

_Then what am I? A murderer. Yeah. I'm a murderer._

"I don't think you're a murderer."

_But, I killed you._

"I wanted to die, James. I wanted the pain to go away. I forgive you, it's what I wanted. What I needed."

_Then, that boy. Eddie. I killed him, too._

"Self-defense. You had no choice, he would have killed you."

_Maybe I should have died._

"You had to live."

_Why?_

"For this. To realize what you'd done, and to discover it was the right thing. But it's over, now, James. Your journey comes to a close. Rest."

_**Atonement**_

"Mary. Thank you. You've made me realize so much. I have nothing without you. I _am _nothing without you. I understand why I came here, to Silent Hill. It wasn't to find you. It was to find peace and understanding. I can finally have that . . . "

He turned the key in the ignition. The car started.

"I wonder if dying hurts. You'd know. You suffocated. You died because you couldn't breathe. Died by my hands. I'll find out soon if that hurts. It doesn't seem so scary."

The car plunged into the lake, sinking quickly, windows left open for the water to get in. He wasn't afraid. He was a sinner. But the water washed away those sins. He was cleansed, he was dying.

He was happy.

_Mary . . . _

"James. Welcome home."


End file.
